


It Only Hurts When I'm Breathing

by Leonawriter



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonawriter/pseuds/Leonawriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Carly comes back, she can't remember everything that drew them together.  She wants nothing more than to make it work again, but for Jack, the pain of loss is just too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It hurt to look at her, so he tried not to.

It was hard.  He had begun to enjoy her smiles, the way her nose crinkled up when she laughed, and those times when he could see her eyes through the thick lenses of her glasses.  The glasses he'd made her remember with.  That had been repaired, not replaced, but even then it looked like they'd never been broken in the first place, the lenses themselves obviously needing to be changed and the frame put back together with the utmost care.  Little things.  The softness in her gaze, the growing lack of awe at the simple fact of who he was and the respect for who he was becoming.  Pride at the fact that this was who she'd helped him become.

He looked at her now, and most of that was gone.  Gone, or changed, and she didn't even realise.

She looked at him as though she'd never seen him before, because in her eyes, she hadn't.  She had to re-learn how to see him as more than 'Jack Atlas, King of Riding Duels'.  

There was a sense of something lost.  An echo of something she'd left behind, but couldn't find again.

For Jack, who felt everything so keenly, it hurt too much.

It felt like his heart was tearing him apart, and so, he tried not to watch the way she walked, the way she smiled, the way everything reminded him of how she was before, when she knew him.

Yuusei frowned at him, but he didn't care.

Besides, maybe if she didn't get close to him again, she wouldn't be hurt like that again.  Carly was a reporter, and her death if nothing else had taught him that there was no stopping her from following a story no matter how dangerous it might be, so he didn't even bother to try and push her away like that.  She'd only come back.  Or get into danger.  

He couldn't bear the idea of her death a second, more permanent time, to be on his hands as well.

So he made sure that she was  _safe_ each time something was going on.  Safe, out of the way, and if she wasn't with him then with one of the others, or far away entirely, the story be damned.

He missed the way she jumpe up in the air when excited, and the constant click of her camera.  Things that still happened but that were now tinged with sadness and pain for him.  The quiet strength in her voice when she talked about something she truly believed in.  Like  _him_.

Red Daemons Dragon was his soul.  But Carly, without knowing what she was doing, had become his heart.

..

When Carly had come to, Jack hadn't been there.  

Oh, she'd seen a swish of a white coat, but she'd assumed it was just a doctor, passing through the hall.

Looks had passed between the group of people she'd seen before her.  Some, she thought she recalled vaguely, others not at all.  They all looked to have gone through rough times just like she had, if she was in a hospital.  More than one had bandages around some part of them, and one or two had arms in slings.

"It's good to have you back," they said.

"It's nice to see that you're back to normal!"

But... back from what?  And if she hadn't been normal, then what  _had_ she been?  And why were all those people injured, who acted like they knew her?

"Jack'll be happy to see that you're better," said another, who'd been quietly watching everything that had been going on up until then.

"Eh?  Jack will?  Who..."  

It surely couldn't be the one she had been hoping for.  That would be...

Crazy.  Insane.

Everyone was staring at her, and it made her feel uncomfortable.

Eventually, she'd get the story out of them.  That was what she was good at, wasn't it?  Being a top-class reporter, and grabbing the scoop, even if it was the truth about what had happened to her, and what was missing from her own memories!

If only there was some way to take back the good bits without the bad, though, she agonised some weeks later, alone in her apartment.  If they were simply memories that she had lost, then it would be easy to tell her mind to accept what had happened, and say 'Now, remember!', and everything could continue where it had left off, with Jack saying that he loved someone... maybe even loved  _her_.

But those memories didn't just contain Jack, or even those other, friendly people - Yuusei, Aki, Rua and Ruka, even Ushio the Security and Mikage.  There were dark things, like dying, and dueling like someone else, and fighting Jack, and... such horrible, horrible things that she didn't know that she'd ever be ready for them.

Even worse than that, though, was that Jack never looked at her.  Not really.  Maybe when he didn't think she was looking, but the moment she smiled to show that she liked that he cared, that she appreciated that soft look on his face, he'd simply huff and turn away, as though caught doing something wrong.

It hurt her.  Each time he did it, it hurt her.  Her smile would falter, but only when he wasn't looking.

Maybe if she kept smiling, he'd remember why he'd liked her again.

She found out that first Mikage-san, and then the girl from the coffee shop, also liked Jack.  But she wouldn't give up!  She knew that she had a chance.

But first weeks and then months went by, and he still wouldn't look at her the way she hoped he would.  Still turned away from her, as though... as though he were ashamed of her?

No.  That couldn't be it.  That couldn't be it at all.

But the wandering thought stayed, because no one told her otherwise.

He told her to go to safety when all she wanted was to stand by his side - why couldn't he understand that the safest place for her was right next to him?  

They'd told her that the way he was now was all due to her.  That, somehow, she'd changed him, and for the better.  The fact that he was still showing that made her hope.  If at least because even if he didn't... didn't feel the same way about  _her_ any more... she could always say that she'd done something to form him into the person he was.  That in some way, a piece of her would live on in him, whether he liked it or not!

She just... wished that all of her efforts weren't in vain.

She'd wander around the appartment sometimes, and wish she could remember, and bring to life even a ghost of a memory of what he was like when, as Ushio-san and Mikage-san said, he'd been here, living here, sleeping here, eating her food and drinking her coffee.  She'd screw up her eyes and imagine that proud man sitting on her sofa, and the images would be so strange and ridiculous she'd banish them with a red face, feeling silly for trying.

 _"Silly girl,"_ the memory of Angela, her old rival, sneered at her.   _"To think that you really thought he'd remember you!"_

Carly sighed, and fingered her glasses.  Even now, she could still remember how upset she'd been when she'd found them sitting there, broken, on her bedside table, where they hadn't been before she'd fallen asleep.

No one had told her who'd put them there, or who'd paid to have them fixed.

The idea that it could have been him... was too much to hope for, even though that was what she'd entertained at the start.

Besides, it wasn't as though it mattered any more, was it?  Jack...

If he'd had feelings for her at that time, they must have gone by now.  He seemed 'normal'.  Normal for Jack.  Strong, confident, powerful, holding his head up high and fighting with and for his friends.  And - maybe he didn't like her that way.  Maybe he never had and everyone was saying something to comfort her.  But she was going to keep supporting him, keep making sure that he won, looking after him with all of her power.

She'd follow wherever he went, because even though he might not love her, she still loved him, and wanted what was best for him.  To make him happy.

Even though something felt at odds with that thought.

Not her feelings.  She was sure of them, and couldn't imagine her feelings ever fading away or leading her astray - especially not while she was herself, and she hasn't been possessed  _once_ since the Signer war!

But... every so often, she'd do something silly.  Something out there and ridiculous and stupid and she wasn't always sure why she did it, just that there was hope in there somewhere, and she wasn't giving up.

None of her attempts worked.

And then, finally, she could only watch as his back grew further and further away, and he never once looked over at her.

Not once.

She kept watching as he vanished, still wrapped up like a present for him to take with him.

He was too far away for her to have seen him when his shoulders hunched over, and his fist clenched, allowing himself one small moment of weakness.


	2. A Cold and Broken Hallelujah

The next time they met, she'd gone up in the world.  Not by much - just a pay rise or two, and a change in who she worked for - but enough to be recognised as a reporter with a better reputation than she used to have.

She was known for writing quality articles on top duelists, and that was what brought her back into his circle, as if she'd never left.

He came out, and greeted the cameras like they weren't even there, gazing through and past the crowd gathered there and only focusing in when he was asked a question.

He still had the same eyes, she thought, as she tried to get further in, closer up, so that she might get a chance to actually be noticed.  Maybe even just a few years ago she wouldn't have have pushed, might not have squirmed and shoved for the chance, but that was what time did.  She was no worse than any of them gathered there, she hoped.  

Maybe a little better.  She'd grown jaded, but she hadn't forgotten her promises, or her reasons for being a reporter in the first place.

_"Atlas-sama!  Atlas-sama, just one question!"_

And he'd answer them.  One after another, the same old stories, one after another.  She knew it all by heart, now.  Everything he, and the others, had told her of his past.  What he'd done during the WRGP.  She'd been there, to see him win.  She'd read article after article on his rise back up to being 'King' again.  She knew his answers.

She almost, _almost_ , felt like she knew him.

But she didn't.  Not really.  If she said she did, it would all be a pretty illusion brought down by the truth, whenever she looked too closely and realised, just as she had so many times before, that while she knew the answers he gave, she couldn't tell what was going on in his mind, if she ever even had.

He was turning away.

Her vision blurred and for a split moment, she was ten years younger, watching his younger self turn away, except that this time, he hadn't even noticed that she'd been there at all.

"No... no!  Please- _WAIT!"_

The crowd went silent.  Jack straightened, as the reporters and those holding cameras looked around for the one who'd spoken, demanding his attention.

She slid forward with ease, now.  If awkwardly, if embarrassed at the situation she'd made for herself.

"I- I don't know if you remember me," she said, just loudly enough that he could hear her without using a microphone.  She barely noticed his eyes widening at the sound of her voice.

"Carly?"

The world stood still.

"I- yes.  Yes, I- I mean- I wanted to ask you something."

He was watching her, now.  They all were.

"Go on, then."

He remembered her.  Words tumbled out of her mouth, unlike the reporter she'd tried so hard to become.

"I..." she coughed, clearing her throat.  "I wanted to know... if you were happy with the place you'd made for yourself, as king?"

...

More than anything, he wanted to ignore the fact that the cameras were still there, flashing away at him, the fact that there were other reporters recording every word he said in their heads, on their phones, with whatever they had at hand.

Perhaps it would have been easier if she wasn't one of them.  But then, would she be Carly?  Probably not.

He had to answer the question, though.  Was he happy?

"Hn!  Until I have defeated that one person, I can never truly be satisfied!"  Cameras flashed.  "But..."  The crowd stilled, and Carly watched.  "I can live with even defeat as long as it means that those who look up to me do so with pride, and I can ride with the honour of carrying their wishes in my duels!"

The cameras flashed again, and this time, they allowed him to be ushered out, back and away from the attention.

His manager asked him what that had all been about, but he brushed the man aside.  He didn't have the patience for explanations right now.

He'd thought she'd gone.  He'd thought he'd never see her again.

He'd seen the articles she'd written, noted to himself when they started coming from somewhere else, in different papers.

Later, he found himself looking into the mirror of his hotel room's bathroom, staring his reflection in the face and remembering the way she'd looked when she'd asked him that.  _Are you happy_ _?_

He almost wondered if she remembered.

He found himself wondering whether it mattered.

His thoughts were interrupted by a tap at the door, and he strode over, not quite so intimidating in house slippers as he would have been in his normal riding boots, but still determined to make an impression on whoever it was, as he'd damn well not been warned about any visitors, and his manager could just-

A maid, that was his first thought, just one of the cleaning staff... but something was off.

"Your glasses give you away, you know," he said, anger forgotten, the king reduced to staring, hand limp on the door handle.

"I... I didn't think you'd answered the question," she said, not much more than a whisper.  "Are you... are you happy?  Jack?"

He continued to stare, expression working its way into a frown without his knowing it, until he turned abruptly to go back into the room, leaving the door open behind him.

"J-Jack?!"

"You might as well come in," he said, already moving to put the kettle on for coffee.  He heard her fumble somewhat before just coming in, and shutting the door behind her.

"I thought you would've forgotten about me," she ended up blurting out as the kettle boiled.  "I really thought... that you wouldn't even..."

"Don't be stupid," he said, hoping that it didn't come across as harsh as the words might make it sound.  "Just because I was the one who pushed you away, doesn't mean I ever _forgot_ about you."

"...Oh."

He went back to making the coffee, just normal, instant coffee, not Blue Eyes Mountain - it didn't travel well, and even if he _could_ afford it in a hotel, not all of them could do it to his taste - and once done, brought the two steaming mugs over to the table.  Set them down, and sat opposite her.

"I'd say 'let's start again', but that happened once already, I don't think I could bear going through that again.  So we'll have to just carry on from where we left off."

"Jack?  What did you mean, that you'd pushed me away?"

She was still in the maid outfit, and he couldn't help but think she looked cute in it, if several years younger than she actually was. He attempted to distract himself by brushing a hair out of his own face, looking away somewhat from the awkward nature of the question as well as his thoughts.

"I was young.  I'd fallen in love with you... and then the you that I'd fallen for was gone, and it _hurt_.  And after that, I simply couldn't see _you_ hurt again."

He felt like he was eighteen years old again instead of somewhere closer to thirty.

Feeling her eyes on him - those words, he shouldn't have said them, she'd found someone else by now, surely-

"You... you really...?"

Her shoulders were shaking.  He looked up in alarm, to find that she was crying.

"Stupid... stupid, I- I _waited_ _!_   All this time, I... I _waited_ for you... even though I thought you'd... forgotten me."

She continued to cry, hands held around the coffee mug like it was some sort of lifeline, tying her to reality, tears welling up and rolling down her face and onto and past her nose, nowhere near as glamorous as the TV would have people believe, and the sight broke him.

She started at his hand on her shoulder.  Looked up, only to have his forehead rest on hers.

"I'm here," he said, words that didn't need to be any more than a whisper.  "I'm here now.  As long as you still want me."

She hiccoughed, accidentally causing their heads to butt against each other, and making them smile.

"But- what about everything else?"

 _She wanted him?  She... actually... still wanted him?_   The thought raced around and around his head, in different ways but all meaning the same thing.

"Hn!  What use is a King if he can't be happy?"

...

AN: So... I couldn't just leave this where it was, and I'd had this idea of them meeting again like that for _ages_.  So I ficced it.


End file.
